


War of the Wolds

by Warks1999



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warks1999/pseuds/Warks1999
Summary: Moreton-In-Marsh was a peaceful, idyllic location. Until the arrival of a certain someone...
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5





	War of the Wolds

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the timeline of my series "Our Favourite Eejits" and there are a couple of references from that series within this one shot :)

**War of the Wolds**

_1998_

Thursday lunchtime in the Black Bear came with a tranquil air. The patrons of the pub in the small town of Moreton-in-Marsh happily sipped away at their ciders, with the odd one or two opting for a lemonade. But not too many.

"What a lovely day Neville…". The landlady said to her husband. "… the sun is shining, the birds are singing and our customers are sat there smiling. Does it get better than this?".

"The air is quaint is it not, Isabella?" He replied.

"Quaint indeed, quaint indeed. We most hope it lasts".

For many years in the heart of the Cotswolds it had done so, the locals enjoying pleasant afternoons with their pints of ale, the sun beating down on them. That had all came to an end two summer's prior however, when a distinctive change occurred on the landscape in the area of outstanding natural beauty. It did not detract from the beauty of the area at all, enhancing it if anything, but the air would forever be tainted by the addition. In the two years that had passed, landlords and shopkeepers lived in fear of it coming to their door, driving their customers away.

Neville and Isabella of the Black Bear Inn were about to have those fears realised.

They could always hear it coming, at least thirty seconds before it reached the door, as could every other business owner. Some of them had taken the radical steps of trying to bar its entry into their businesses, but it would always fight back to such an extent that they deemed a ban unwise. Its presence would normally be a mystery, but most of Britain were aware of the fairy-tale circumstances that explained why it was in the Cotswolds. A friendship with one of their own, the connection to the heroic sportswoman and the story of the unfortunate Englishman. A tale that was second nature not just in the higher echelons of Cotswold society, but in the hearts and minds of the people of the country too.

"Oh bugger, it's the mouthy Irish girl again!" Neville exclaimed.

The whole pub was thrown into silence, all of the patrons listening in to the sound of the approaching emerald hurricane. Many knew the rigours of facing it head on. Few were ever the same having done so.

"The fuck are ye on about ye stupid eejit, she's not ridin' yer old nag!"

The swearing was most unpleasant. Most unpleasant indeed.

"Don't ye tell me to calm down. Ye should be the one to calm down, yer fuckin' heart might explode ye fat prick!"

Whenever it was out, there was always an argument on the phone. Always.

"Goodbye to you too! Stupid bastard…".

It was called Michelle Mallon.

When she strolled through the open doors of the Black Bear, she walked into a coven of fixed stares and angered faces. A scene she was used to since her move to the English countryside, a world apart from the tougher confines of the Derry walls. The Derry walls which she'd often not cared too highly for living back at home but would staunchly defend as being far superior to the walls in the Cotswolds should she be challenged about them.

"Alright. Pint please, ye can choose which".

The landlord and landlady were still frozen in place, a mix of shock and rage preventing them from taking her request. Like their patrons, they just stared at her.

"Oi, I said pint please!"

There was still no response from Neville or Isabella, so Michelle decided to take matters into her own hands. By swearing so obscenely that someone would have to say something to stop the foul-mouthed tirade from continuing.

"Listen up ye posh prick. I've been asking nicely for a fuckin' pint, I'm not askin' ye to find Lord fuckin' Lucan or run a marathon ye dumb bastard. I WANT A FUCKIN' PINT!"

Her version of nicely was a lot different to the rest of the pub's definition of the word and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for one of them. The Colonel, who'd been out hunting with his chums in the fields that morning, had come to the end of his tether with the unladylike language of the dark-haired Irish girl. She might have had friends in high places, but her language was derived from the dirty gutters of Derry, language that was not to be repeated in front of the gentry of the Cotswolds.

"HOW DARE YOU USE SUCH LANGUAGE YOUNG LADY!" The Colonel shouted at her. "GET OUT OF THIS PUB YOU FLITHY IRISH HARLOT!"

Shocked gasps flooded the rest of the pub. There were other ladies present but the Colonel was so infuriated, he'd forgotten his manners amongst them. That was the extent to which Michelle could ruin the peaceful setting of a Cotswold pub, and had been for nearly two years. Out of all of them, she was the least shocked the man's appalling description of her, being spurred on by it instead of taking offence.

"Fuck…You".

The Colonel's dander was well and truly up, a vicious grumble cannoning out of his voice box, presenting itself into a full snarl eventually.

"Where is my riding crop, I am going to teach you a lesson young lady…".

"I wouldn't be doin' that if I were you".

A fresh voice added weight to the toxic atmosphere that had descended from the showdown between Michelle and the Colonel. To her delight it was the voice of someone from back home, someone that she knew incredibly well. He was part of the reason that she'd gone to the pub in the first place, as he'd accompanied James, Erin and their precious daughter Hope on the trip over the Irish Sea. Clare too would be joining them that evening after she'd finished work, though Orla would understandably miss out.

The Colonel disregarded the voice, having found his riding crop, but when he turned back to face Michelle to administer his teachings with it, he stepped straight into the path of the new arrival.

"Out of my way you old paddy!"

The old soldier was then given command of the 1st Battalion of the Lights Out Regiment as Joe McCool's fist connected with his face. His friends took exception with Joe's manoeuvre and in minutes, an all-out bar brawl occurred between him and the Hunt members. A first for the Black Bear and an unheard-of occurrence in the normally sleepy town. Michelle ended up having to drag Joe out, for the first time being kicked out of one of the local establishments for an act that was not of her doing.

Neville and Isabella could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

But it changed nothing as there was no doubt that the two of them would be back.

Moreton-in-Marsh really did have its handful when it came to the Irish visitors…


End file.
